


Happiness is Everything You Can Offer Me

by SquishySterek (Herm_own_ninny)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Trash Wolf
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Peter Hale, Breathplay, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Hair-pulling, Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Reverse Knotting, Romance, Smut, Stiles is in college, Top Stiles Stilinski, because I don't roll like that, cuteness, excessive kissing, fight me, if TW can't get their shit together and give them proper ages then I can make them how old I want to, so NO underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-01-30 06:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12648162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herm_own_ninny/pseuds/SquishySterek
Summary: The moon was such a distant thought in Peter’s mind. He was holding the stars, and that was all that mattered right now.Participation piece for days 2&3 for Steter Week 2017!





	1. Chapter 1

This was the third date this week, seventh in the three weeks of this month that Stiles has had to cancel on Peter. And he's mad, but he's not. He's more jealous than anything, but he's angry with himself for being jealous.  
Because Stiles has been cancelling to work on his semester project for English, a joint project with some Psych major he met through a randomized process a teacher created. The partner was supposed to be someone Stiles couldn't work with, and the objective was two part. The first was to pick a book and write a joint report. The second was to learn to work with someone with completely different… _everything_ and overcome the obstacles. But Stiles is such an easy going and adaptable person that he and his partner are now friends. They meet whenever the two have some free time in their busy schedule to work through the hulking mass of a piece they chose. (Because on top of everything, Stiles is an overachiever and decided to write on the entire Eragon series instead of just one piece of literature.) They're creating visuals, writing out sketches, pulling out all of the stops in the hopes for the extra credit opportunity that the next semester they are guaranteed nothing lower than a 75 on every assignment.  
Peter is so fucking proud, he loves that Stiles is enjoying himself and his school and babbling about it to him in that excited way. His hands will be everywhere, flinging around the bubble Peter allows him so he can accurately mime the size of a cardboard cut out they worked on, or a dance they're bringing to life, or some stupid one-liner he'd managed to come up with to aid his classmates in making sure they answer all of the quiz questions right that they'd be asked. Peter is so fucking proud of Stiles.  
But he misses him. And it doesn't help that this partner is very touchy, always hugs Stiles or high fives, or has no problem making sure a costume is on him just right. Because when Stiles comes over late, he always reeks of the boy. Usually Peter can handle it, but tonight is the full moon and Stiles is his best distraction. Except when he's doused in the scent of another person, unconsciously feeding the little tick at the back of Peter’s mind that serves to remind him of their age difference, of how amazing and talented Stiles is; of how easily he could be left for someone as young and successful as Stiles will be.  
He stops the train of thought as he feels his claws ripping through the flesh of his fingers, sees the icy blue reflected in the window close by his TV. He shuts the device off and shoots a text to Stiles.

 **Hotty McHunkerson:** not feeling it tonight. Don't bother coming over.

Stiles frowns at his phone as he turns off his Jeep. He was already at Peter's loft, so turning back and heading home was out of the question. He was going to march himself up those stairs and right onto Peter in whatever position his boyfriend was in. He is going to sit on him until he talks, badger him to get the problem out. Full moon and scary wolfiness be damned.  
“Babe?” Stiles enters cautiously, because, while he may be on a mission, this is still Peter’s space and Peter’s privacy. At a lack of response, mainly threats and growling, Stiles steps into the loft and kicks off his shoes, leaves his jacket at the door; even takes off his shirt. Peter always complains when he smells like Sam, so the extra precaution is only going to aid in his endeavor to figure out the issue. Stiles has an inkling feeling it has to do with how often he's needed to cancel recently, but he won't make any assumptions until they've talked. It's why he and Peter work out so well. They talk, they're mature, they're understanding, and they genuinely enjoy each other. Everything works out to the point that they avidly work to make everything better for the other. That's how they work, and it works for them.  
Of course, there's a hereditary Hale Family Curse that Stiles constantly has to badger Peter to discuss, and it's the distinct lack of self worth every member of that family seems to have. Derek and his emotional endeavors, Malia and her mental capabilities, Cora and her distinct lack of appreciation for touch outside of familial members, Peter and his self image. He's basically an unpaid therapist for how often he lends an ear or a verbally encouraging ~~lashing~~ talking to that any member of his pack may be in need of.  
Stiles sees light pouring through Peter’s cracked bedroom door, decides the fact that it isn't shut and locked is something to use in his favor. Peter may have told him not to come, but he isn't shutting him out. That's all he needs.  
“Peter?” Stiles asks quietly as he enters his boyfriend's bedroom. Said man is on his bed, on top of the sheets, ankles crossed as he reads a book on wolves. Stiles almost wants to make a joke, but decides to save it for later. Some serious emotional loving is needed here and now.

~~~~~~~~

“You want to tell me why you texted me?”  
Peter isn't at all surprised when Stiles gets on the bed, takes his book-and marks his page for him-from his hands and sets it on his nightstand, then crawls into Peter’s lap. Stiles’ defense is that he can't be ignored if he's right in front of you, sitting on you, petting your beard and nuzzling your neck. He's not going to pretend it doesn't work, that it doesn't soften his resolve, doesn't relax him almost immediately. Because Stiles knows exactly where and when to stroke Peter, knows when to give his hair a gentle tug to keep him from zoning out completely.  
“What's got you strung out, babe?”  
Peter frowns as his thoughts from earlier resurface and he gently pulls his beard from Stiles’ ministrations, glaring down at his bed sheets. “Nothing.”  
“Mmm. I'm calling bullshit,” Stiles nuzzles his face in Peter's beard before kissing the corner of his mouth. “Talk to me.”  
“It's stupid.”  
Peter can't bring himself to look up at Stiles, but he does lean into his space after the kiss, lets him know the affection is appreciated. Because it seriously is, but - “Can you please put on one of my shirts? You still… smell…” Peter trails off, closing his eyes and thunking his head against the wood at the head of his bed. He hears Stiles hum softly, can't help his weak smile as the younger man gently brushes his fingers over his cheek. Stiles does get up and put on one of Peter’s henleys, climbs back into his lap.  
“I did something for you. Your turn,” Stiles’ voice is quiet, his heartbeat slightly irregular, most likely due to the worry that is no doubt coursing through his body at Peter's current state of being. “Please, babe.”  
Peter closes his eyes again as Stiles nuzzles against his neck, one of his hands moving from its position around his neck to slip under Peter’s shirt and trace random designs over his torso.  
“I miss you. And I'm jealous,” Peter mumbles, moving a hand to cup the back of Stiles’ neck, thumb brushing over the soft skin, pulling him that little bit closer and anchoring himself.

Stiles sighs softly against Peter’s skin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck, then deciding that one wasn't enough, even two, not even three. Eleven seemed to be a satisfactory number, so Stiles sat back and stared at his boyfriend. Held his gaze, tilted his head a bit, watching the thinly veiled nervousness and anxiety flit around behind the still overwhelming amount of love on display. Peter kept everything in check when it came to hiding himself from the outside world, but his eyes were his weakness when it came to Stiles.  
Stiles knew just how to read him, how to understand the complexity behind the calming blues that were Peter’s eyes. He often found himself cliche-ly referencing the sea as he got lost in them, and then stopping himself. Because it wasn't just the sea, it was the ocean. It was the deep blue waters that held tragedy and mystery, stories of triumphant love and incredible loss. Monsters hidden deep below that only a carefully manned vehicle could uncover and begin to make sense of. Peter’s eyes were a calm sea holding a tour boat, that gentle glint from the bedroom light a whale breaching and blowing mist up into the salty air. His eyes were Stiles’ favorite, the one thing he'd memorized first about his boyfriend. And in this moment they were churning with a frenzied feeling beneath an otherwise picturesque scene.  
But then a word registers, and Stiles is pulled from his reverie, brows furrowing. “Jealous?” Because no one has ever been jealous of Stiles unless they were jealous he was spending time with someone that person wanted to be around. Did Peter want to be around Sam? Is that why he was acting this way? Was Stiles boring him?

The uptake in his boyfriend’s heart rate had Peter sitting up, concern overtaking everything else. “Yes, I'm jealous. But I'm not mad at you, please don't think that. I'm just… I miss you. And I'm jealous that Sam gets to spend so much time with you and is taking from our time. But I-”  
“You're jealous of _Sam_?”  
Stiles looks nothing short of completely baffled, brows knitted together as he seemingly tries to comprehend Peter’s words, which only proves to confuse the older man.  
“Yes… why wouldn't I be?”  
“You're jealous of Sam because he spends so much time with me?” Stiles still sounds lost, shaking his head slightly.  
“Yes, Stiles. I miss you. I miss our time together. I miss being the first person you see after school, the first person you talk to ab-”  
Peter is effectively cut off by Stiles’ lips against his own. As per instinct, he relaxes and kisses back instantly, pulling the man in his lap closer, kissing him earnestly.  
They stay like that for a while, Stiles’ hands roaming over Peter’s body, Peter’s hands rooting them both together. When they finally break, Stiles is slightly breathless, his eyes and cheeks a little wet. Peter’s mouth is open to ask, but Stiles answers him before he has the chance.

”Nobody’s ever been jealous for not spending time with me,” His voice is small as he makes the admonition, fingers settling against Peter’s exposed collarbone, lightly tapping against the taut skin. And it was very true. People were constantly jealous _of_ Stiles, but never about him.  
People always wanted to be around him, but it was because he made them feel welcome and let them know what they needed when they needed it. He was everyone's favorite person, but still never meant enough to anyone to be warranted any amount of jealousy. He'd recount a moment of the night previous at dinner with Jackson and see Lydia’s eyes flare up with the haunting of the green eyed monster, see the same flicker through Scott’s as he recounted an inside joke with Kira and she'd laugh loudly. See the kindling green flames flare up in Isaac’s eyes whenever he mentioned hanging out with Scott, see Liam twitch as the monster flicked his side after Stiles talked about a practice with Scott. Could see Jackson’s eyes take on the green-eyed monster’s hue as he messed with Isaac about talking in his sleep.  
But whenever he was mentioned, the monster never manifested for him, it was always for others. It was attacking him in want of the ones he was always around. But to have it reaching for him, the claws raking at his flesh and pulling at the tight strings of his heart, Stiles had no clue how to handle himself. So he was crying, he was laughing a little bit, he was anxiously tapping against Peter’s clavicle-nothing made sense, because now the monster was reaching for him instead of using him as a conduit to better reach another, and the feeling was foreign.

“Stiles?” Peter brushes the tears from his boyfriend’s face, frowning slightly. “Are you okay?”  
“No. I've never… I-You… You're jealous. Of Sam. _About me._ ”  
Peter can't help the small smile that graces his features when Stiles says the words, reflecting his beaming grin as their eyes meet.  
“It's because I love you. Of course I'm jealous of anyone that spends so much time with you,” Peter murmurs, leaning forward to deliver a tender kiss. He gently breaks any and each attempt Stiles makes at turning the moment into a makeout session. “I'm not done, yet.”  
The stutter in his boyfriend’s heartbeat has Peter smiling warmly, the slight pink tint to the younger’s cheeks warming his heart.  
“I'm also extremely proud of the fact that you're prioritizing your education. Because that is what I want for you, first and foremost. I want to see you become one of the most successful men I know, to see you kick it to every teacher, adult, and student that ever doubted you. I am proud that you are mature enough to realize that I am not your whole entire being, that school and other relationships in the world around you are just as important as what we have here,” Peter pauses to kiss Stiles’ nose, wordlessly brushing away the tears rolling down his boyfriend’s face. “You are an astonishing human being, balancing the lifestyles of a college student and supernatural crime fighter with such ease I've never seen before. You hold yourself to high standards and never fail to meet them, because you would take nothing less than perfect.”  
Peter grabs his blanket and cocoons the two of them, letting Stiles curl up in his lap, nuzzling against his beard.  
“And I'm extremely proud of the fact that you let yourself open up to me when you just can't maintain your little sunshine-in-the-darkest-of-nights persona. Because you allow yourself to be taken care of when you need to.”  
Peter nuzzles his face in Stiles’ hair, rumbling happily as the younger man presses a soft kiss to his neck.

”And I will be eternally grateful that you've chosen me to love so deeply.”  
The last sentence is soft, gentle, but thundering with every emotion Stiles had ever felt from Peter at once. This is one of the endless reasons Stiles could bring to defend Peter whenever some asshole tried to say he was an emotionless pervert extorting Stiles’ not completely developed emotional state of being.  
Because Peter meant everything he was saying, and Stiles knew it was true. Not every moment of his free time was filled with Peter. He rearranged his schedule for friends if need be, and that included plans with Peter. But he was never made to feel guilty for having a life outside of their relationship, never pressured into following every plan they'd originally thought out. Peter was his everything, but not in an all encompassing way. Peter was Stiles’ love, but not all of it. Peter was exactly as he should be, and he and Stiles were aware and proud of the fact that they could both function like that.

“Hey, Peter?”  
He brushes his fingers over Stiles’ cheekbone, smiling. “Yeah?”  
“I think I'm in love with you.”  
Peter grins, doesn't make an effort to hide the rosiness of his cheeks as he lifts Stiles’ head for a tender kiss. “I'm glad we're on the same page.”  
The light that flashes in Stiles’ eyes at those words has Peter’s heart racing, the two of them blinding each other with the ferocity of the metaphorical light emanating from their grins.

The moon was such a distant thought in Peter’s mind. He was holding the stars, and that was all that mattered right now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Read the tags!**

”Do you think we could do anything tonight?” Stiles is quiet as he straightens up, smiling a bit wickedly at his boyfriend.  
Peter returns the expression, slipping his thumbs under his shirt Stiles was wearing to rub circles on his hips. “What exactly do you have in mind?”  
“When's the last time you showered?”

The glint in Stiles’ eye has Peter suppressing an excited shiver that runs down his spine. He clears his throat, shifting a bit, biting at the inside of his cheek. “I took a long shower today around noon. You know I- _oh_ ,” Peter’s eyes fluttered as he tilted his head back. Stiles was doing a very nice thing with his lips to his neck.  
“I think you can figure out what I've got in mind. You like to brag that you're smart,” Stiles’ breath against his skin is raising goosebumps. 

Stiles pulled both of their shirts off before he reattached his lips to Peter’s neck, absolutely revelling in the happy little sigh it pulled from his boyfriend. There were quickly fading marks, and Stiles gave them a little glare at just how briefly his claims stayed. He started kissing over Peter’s chest, licking in some places, grinning as he made his way down the older man’s gorgeously toned torso. He loved how quickly it was rising and falling as Peter struggled slightly for air. Most people, Erica especially, enjoyed vocalizing it, believed Stiles was the one that would always fall to pieces at Peter’s hands. While he definitely had nothing against the idea, he absolutely basked in the truth that it was the other way around. And Peter was _oh so_ responsive.  
He'd twitch and gasp quietly, try to bite back a moan, try to keep himself from whining too loudly. Stiles would smirk every time he could hear fibers in the bed sheets snap and unravel underneath Peter’s claws, he'd encourage Peter to still touch him, because the drag and gentle sting of them on his skin had Stiles preening. Watching Peter’s eyes flash as he suckled at the head of his cock beneath his briefs was Stiles’ biggest ego boost, and it never failed to get his dick completely interested if it wasn't before. The prick of Peter’s claws against his scalp as he trailed his tongue along the length, a smirk following the wolf's protesting whine as he stood. “You're fucking my face. Get up.”

Peter’s eyes flashed once more as he followed suit, a low growl emanating from his chest. “You're _telling_ me?” He mumbled, fingers tangling in Stiles’ hair as the younger man settled to his knees in front of him.  
The glint in the eyes below him had his stomach doing somersaults, that wicked smirk making him forcibly hold back a whine. “You really want to play it this way, Peter?”  
It took the werewolf maybe a second to completely decide on it, but he settled his clawed hand against Stiles' face, running his thumb over those gorgeously plump lips. “What are you going to do if I do?”  
“Probably just fuck you even harder, later. But that's only if you deliver on whatever it is you've got going on right now.” Stiles is smirking, leaning his head against Peter’s hip and purposely over-enunciating so that the he can feel every wash of air over his still-clothed erection.  
“And what exactly constitutes as a delivery? You know I need specific instructions,” Peter murmured, moving the hand that had been settled on Stiles’ face to his hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck.

As a claw trailed over his now exposed pulse point, Stiles let his eyes flutter and roll back a bit, just how he knew Peter liked. The approving noise that fell from his lips had Stiles preening, and he leaned into the hand in his hair. “Do you really need me to tell you how I like my mouth to be fucked?” Stiles peeked open his eyes, unable to help his smirk as he started undoing Peter’s jeans.   
His eyes darted down to watch the younger man’s tongue run over his lips before growling softly at the smirk so plainly gracing his features. He didn't wait for Stiles to pull his boxers and jeans all of the way down, just moved that hand from his neck to hold the younger man’s jaw open before thrusting in.  
Those gorgeous little eyes fluttered for real, rolled back just a little as Stiles gagged at the suddenness of it all, but those lithe fingers were digging in to Peter’s hips, a small noise of pleasure barely muffled around the dick in his mouth.  
“You didn't need to tell me,” Peter growls, pulling out before slowly pushing back in, Stiles moving that extra little bit so his nose nuzzled against the base after he got used to the size. He was adjusting constantly around Peter’s cock in his throat, the older man holding him tight, more as a grounding mechanism than to hold him still. When he pulled out once more, the little trail of spit connecting the head of his cock to Stiles’ parted lips had him growling softly again.  
“But I want to know just how hard you want me to go.”  
Stiles’ eyes were alight with that cocky glint even as he was still panting slightly, lips parted. “Fuck my face like you want me to fuck that pretty little ass of yours later,” He murmured, the glint in his eyes more a challenge than anything. For Peter to let go and just… take. So he did.  
The choking noise was soon to follow Stiles’ statement, his eyes rolling back in his head as Peter fucked his throat a sight to behold. He started out at a more conservative pace - if there even is one for a nice, thorough throat fucking - before slowly picking it up, letting Stiles adjust however he could.  
The noises wrenched from Stiles’ mouth had Peter’s knees shaking slightly, his moans and, even if he wouldn't admit, whimpers following close behind each one. He pulled out after a couple of deep thrusts, letting Stiles gasp for air and recover.  
Peter couldn't help but rub his dick against Stiles’ cheek, smearing precum across his face before slowly pressing back into his mouth and bottoming out.

Stiles kept gagging each time Peter gave a gentle thrust of his hips, never fully pulling his dick from his throat, but enough each time to enable his gag reflex. He was dying, wanted to touch himself so bad. But that was Peter’s reward. If he could fuck Stiles’ mouth to his standards, he got to spend time toying with the younger man afterwards. It worked, definitely. Peter just had to be encouraged to let loose, to take without giving for the time being.  
Stiles thrived on it, got off on hearing himself choke around Peter’s cock, even feeling the spit running down his neck now.  
When a claw grazed over Stiles’ cheekbone he opened his eyes, only to have them roll back as Peter gave a particularly harsh thrust forward. Stiles gagged of course, but this time he pulled off and took a deep breath, trying to keep his panting to a minimum. “I think that's goo-”  
“No no,” Peter hushed him, retracting his claws before pushing two of his fingers into Stiles’ mouth. The younger man instantly wrapped his lips around them, swirling his tongue and hollowing out his cheeks. If Peter was going to play it this way, he better be able to handle himself.

”Good boy,” Peter purred, pressing down at the back of Stiles' mouth and wrenching a beautiful gagging sound that wasn't marred by a cock in his mouth. “Listen, all of those pretty little noises falling from your mouth, those lips wrapped around my fingers,” Peter breathed, pulling another gag from Stiles, his dick twitching as he saw those eyes roll back again. “You're a living wet dream. Fuck,” He groaned, pulling his fingers out before trailing them around Stiles’ lips. “Think you're ready to start prepping me?” He murmured, brushing his thumb down the younger man's jaw.  
“I don't know, _am I_?” Stiles was smirking slightly even as his voice broke on a rasp.  
Peter pursed his lips and slowly pressed his cock back into his mouth, held Stiles’ head down even when he tried to pull back.

Stiles’ pulse was racing, excitement mixing with the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. So, Peter really was just going to take and take and take until Stiles didn't have the energy to sass him, it seemed. The realization sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine and he choked slightly after a moan tried to follow it. Peter pulled out and pulled Stiles’ head back, smirking down at him. “We're on the same page, now?”  
“I want you to fuck me,” Stiles rasped, licking his lips as his eyes fell shut, still panting quietly.  
“You know I don't top on a full moon. I thought you didn't like how rough I got,” Peter’s voice was soft, but the hand in Stiles’ hair never gave up its pressure, a steady presence holding him immobile.  
“I wanna try. Please,” Stiles panted, opening his eyes and holding Peter's gaze.  
“If I catch a whiff of that boy on you I will get bad. I don't want to test it tonight. Maybe next time?” Peter brushed his knuckles over Stiles' cheek and the younger man smiled, nodded, leaned forward to kiss the head of Peter’s dick. He tried to bite back a smile before speaking. “Until next time,” He murmured, giggling, before pressing another kiss to the head and standing.

Peter rolled his eyes as he bit back a fond smile, pulling Stiles into a heated kiss. This time it was the werewolf’s hands roaming everywhere, Stiles holding his shoulders as he undressed the younger man completely, then made quick work of his own clothes.  
The transition of control was easy and seamless, and Peter was anxious. All of his senses were heightened during the full moon, and Stiles always exploited that. Blunt nails scratching down his back and pulling goosebumps to the surface, teeth gently nipping at his lower lip.  
Peter sighed quietly as Stiles broke the kiss and gently pushed against his chest to lay him on the bed, even propped his legs up and preened at the pleased sound the younger man made.  
“How pretty,” he murmured, pressing kisses down the inside of his thigh before suckling at Peter’s ballsack. The werewolf moaned quietly, back arching off the bed as Stiles pressed a finger against his pucker, tongue trailing along his v-line. “So gorgeous,” he whispered, scraping his teeth across the skin in front of him. “Can you reach the lube for me?”  
Stiles raked his eyes over Peter’s torso as he stretched behind himself to grab the bottle from the nightstand, muscles pulling taut across his body. Stiles sat up and pressed a kiss to the center of his abdomen, smiling when the werewolf gave him an amused smirk.  
“One of these days I'm going to lay you out and I'm going to kiss every square inch of your body,” Stiles mumbled, kissing up Peter’s body before attaching their lips in a searing kiss, reaching for the lube as he did so. He kept his other hand around Peter’s cock, giving it a few gentle tugs. He broke the kiss and sank his teeth into the werewolf’s lower lip as he flicked his wrist, wrenching a loud moan from Peter as he arched up off the bed, eyes flashing once more.  
Stiles sat back on his knees, warming some lube between his fingers, just running his eyes over his boyfriend laid before him. “You look breathtaking, ya know? I still have no clue how you think I'm prettier,” Stiles sighed, cutting off Peter’s protest by pressing his index finger into his ass with no warning, the werewolf beneath him gasping and spreading his legs a bit more. “I mean, look at you. That gorgeous little nose scrunch whenever I surprise you,” Stiles whispered, his thumb massaging Peter's taint and pulling a mewling noise from him as he relaxed against the mattress, panting slightly.  
“I think you're prettier when you're reading, though. Most of this is just fueled by lust,” Stiles whispered, bringing Peter’s wrist to his mouth to press his lips against the skin there. “But you're also always gorgeous, even when you're glaring at me and probably contemplating killing me,” Stiles smiled slightly at the broken almost-chuckle Peter managed before he was throwing his head back as Stiles added a second finger. “My favorite is when you think I don't notice,” Stiles breathed, curling his fingers into Peter’s prostate and smiling at the broken moan that fell from his mouth. “Because you just go completely soft. Like you're finally happy again,” Stiles leaned down and kissed the corner of Peter’s mouth, let him turn to have a real kiss as Stiles added a third finger, stretching him adequately. The werewolf was still whining and whimpering against his boyfriend's lips, reaching to wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him in closer. Stiles laughed quietly when Peter pulled his hair to break the kiss, panting, icy blue eyes staring back at him.  
“I'm ready, if you're done trying to make me cry,” He muttered, cheeks slightly rosy. Stiles grinned and kissed him once more, fingers tangling into his hair before he positioned himself over the werewolf, humming happily as legs wrapped around his waist.

Peter’s back arched up against Stiles’ torso as the younger man pressed in, a broken sound falling from his mouth as lips showered his neck and chest with reassurance and encouragement.  
“Please, please don't go slow. I'm gonna crumble,” He whispered, keeping his eyes shut tight as he held Stiles' shoulders. “I don't want to, not tonight.”  
“Alright. Another time,” Stiles pressed a tender kiss to his boyfriend’s lips before swiftly bottoming out, smirking at the broken noise that fell from his lips. “Guess I'll tear you apart a different way.”  
Peter’s eyes flashed and he growled before throwing his head back on a choked sound as Stiles pulled out and slammed back in, fingers in his hair pulling hard. It was all Peter could do to keep his claws sheathed as Stiles started up a brutal pace, lithe fingers shifting from his hair to settle over his throat. But that wasn't enough.  
“If your hand’s gonna be there, it's not just a decoration,” Peter muttered, his gut coiling as Stiles smirked at him. “Who said it was just gonna be there? In time, honey, in time,” he whispered with a devious grin, lips and teeth working along Peter’s jawline. It wasn't until he was completely lost in the sensation of Stiles fucking into him again that he realized he wasn't able to take in a breath. He couldn't even get out a coherent noise, his eyes rolling back as the sensation of being unable to breathe hit him. It only added to his already overwhelmed senses, and Peter’s back was arching off the bed as he came without warning, Stiles letting go of his throat as Peter nearly roared. Eyes squeezed shut, body tensing impossibly as he dirtied his own stomach, could feel a trickle of blood from his claws dug into Stiles' back.  
When he finally went lax on the bed, Stiles was panting, whimpering softly, sounding slightly in pain.  
“What-What’s-” Peter started, then yelped softly as Stiles nipped the corner of his jaw.  
“I can't pull out. You gotta relax. It hurts a little,” The younger man mumbled, nuzzling against his neck.   
“Stiles, I _am_ relaxed. What are-” And then the sensation hit Peter, and his face went a bright pink. He dropped his head back against a pillow, rubbing his hand over his face. “Fuck me. Fuck.”  
“Honey, I just _did_ , that's why we're in this situation, I thought that was clear. Please don't tense up more, please,” Stiles sounded a little frantic, and Peter couldn't help his slightly hysterical laugh as he put a hand over the young man’s mouth.  
“I can't relax. You're not getting out anytime soon.”  
“ _Excuse me_?” Stiles squeaked out behind the werewolf's hand, brow furrowing in confusion.  
“I, uh, hm,” Peter chuckled a bit more from embarrassment than anything, closing his eyes again. “It's, uh, a thing when… I really like you, as in, I love you, I'm in love with you-”  
“No shit, Sherlock,” Stiles muttered, a bit of fondness creeping in around the slight discomfort in his expression.  
“It's like knotting when, uh, mating between two consenting and happy mates-”  
“Mates?” Stiles asked quietly, his eyes lighting up as he stared down at Peter. The werewolf groaned softly, his cheeks turning red at the flood of emotions he felt towards Stiles’ reaction.   
“Yes, mates, yes. And, it's reverse-knotting, but it still ties the two together, and-”  
Stiles cut Peter off with a kiss, a happy one loaded with everything the two of them felt at the realization. “I'm okay, trust me, fuck, wow, this is amazing… _Mates_ ,” Stiles breathed, grinning stupidly as he pressed his face in the crook of Peter’s neck, shivering excitedly. “Fuck, fuck. Mates!” He whispered, giddy with excitement, nuzzling his face against Peter’s cheek. “Why do I get this feeling you aren't as excited?”  
“Oh, I am, trust me. But you're absolutely adorable in this moment and I need to watch this.”  
Stiles groaned and nipped at Peter’s nose, his cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Stop being a sap.”  
“No. And if you thought you were spoiled before,” Peter chuckled, brushing his knuckles over Stiles’ cheek. “Prepare yourself. Now I have no reason to hold back. You're mine and I'm yours, and you're stuck with me, even if I buy you whatever it is I buy you.”  
“Rude,” Stiles huffed in mock discontempt before grinning at Peter’s sassy look in response. “It also means you're stuck with me, so, ha. Payback.”  
“That's all I could ever ask for. You.”  
“God, you're basically dripping with syrup. So sweet and gooey. Yuck,” Stiles groaned, trying to hide his face in Peter's neck as his cheeks went bright pink. The werewolf merely chuckled in response and let him stay there.

 

* * *

 

The two of them were like that for a while, Peter combing through Stiles’ hair as the younger man laid on his chest.  
“Thank you,” Stiles said softly, finally looking up at Peter with a warm smile.  
“For what?”  
“For loving me as much as I love you.”  
“Now who's being a sap?”  
They both chuckled and kissed softly before Stiles was finally able to pull out. He grabbed a towel from the bedside table and cleaned off Peter’s stomach before settling in beside him, the two of them curling into each other.

 

* * *

 

”Love you,” A whispered, raspy voice spoke from the darkness. There was some shuffling on the bed as one of them settled down and got comfortable in a slightly different position.  
“Love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~Seriously pissed off at this new tagging thing AO3 has going on. What the fuck. I just wanted to say "cuddling" but it wasn't in your drop down menu. I couldn't say my trademark Trash Wolf because it wasn't in the goddamn drop-down menu. I couldn't mention my OC Sam because it wasn't listed in the fucking drop down menu.~~  
>  ~~U G H~~  
>  I got it to work.
> 
> Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed. Some fucking amazing and tender smut will be soon to follow. Special thanks to my BBK for sorta inspiring this, but really for encouraging me to just do it. ♥
> 
> - _J.M.O._


End file.
